


The World Ender

by seblaiens



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 11:26:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8487541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seblaiens/pseuds/seblaiens
Summary: He lives, but only barely.





	

The grenade falls, and Harry closes his eyes. It’s a reflex, he can’t keep them open knowing what’s about to happen - he’s alright with death, had enough time in-between Lazarevic beating and shooting him and Nathan showing up to make his amends. He hears the explosions and feels the shrapnel tear into his right side, tearing through his jacket and jeans. Some of them end up in his face, sharp pain traveling through his body that makes him want to scream, but he’s too exhausted to fight. He lost a lot of blood already from the gunshot wound - a few scratches on his face won’t do much more damage.

What he’s not prepared for is to still be conscious after the blast. There’s a ringing in his ears that won’t go away, blood pooling around him, but he can still see the ceiling of the room they’re in - barely. It’s a little… out of focus.

“Oh god, Harry,” he can hear Chloe say, and suddenly there are hands on his body, lifting him up into a standing position.

“We need to get him out of here,” the other woman says - Harry hadn’t bothered to learn her name. “He needs to be in a hospital, right now.”

Harry wants to say something, but all that falls out of his mouth is a groaning noise. He’s in so much pain - he just wanted it all the end, once and for all, but for some reason life is playing yet another cruel joke on him, making him survive just long enough to suffer even more. He looks to his sides, Chloe and the blonde girl holding him as Nathan walks in front of them, shooting his way through the army Harry has gotten to know over the past few months. He wouldn’t call them friends, but it still doesn’t make him feel good seeing Nathan kill them, one after the other hitting the ground.

“Chloe,” he says as the women put him on the ground, but she’s talking to Nathan, not paying any attention to him. Just like always, he thinks grimly.

“What is it?” Blonde girl says. “Do you need something?”

Harry shakes his head, a tiredness overcoming him. “Nate…” he presses out, but he’s out cold before he can say anything more.

When he wakes up from his dreamless rest he’s in a bed, the mattress hard beneath his back. He’s in so much pain he wants to scream, his body on fire all over, no part that doesn’t hurt. It’s so bad he can barely breathe. He looks around the room, trying to figure out where he is, how he can make the pain stop, but it’s not a hospital. The village they plundered on their mission to get Schäfer, he realises - he’s amazed they didn’t kill him for what he had done to them.

“You’re awake,” a voice says, surprise evident in the exclamation. He looks to the door to see the blonde woman again, and he should really bother learning her name soon - she saved his life after all. “Let me get Tenzin…”

He’s left alone again for a few minutes before a native comes into his room, a huge needle in his hand. Harry bites his teeth together as he’s given the shot, instant relief flooding through his body as the morphine does as well.

“Thanks,” he says, but he’s aware the man most likely doesn’t understand him. You don’t get far with English around these parts, he’d noticed.

The woman from before steps into the room again, a bowl of soup in her hands.Tenzin and her help him into a sitting position, and she spoon feeds him the hot liquid. He feels like a baby, but the right side of his body is clad in bandages, including his arm. His right eye is obstructed as well - his depth perception fucked with by only being able to see out of one.

“I’m Elena, by the way,” the blonde girl says eventually, after Tenzin leaves the room. “Don’t think we got properly introduced.” Harry is quiet. He doesn’t have anything to say; she most likely knows his name already, if she’s close to Nathan.

“How are you feeling?”

Harry huffs. “Peachy.”

“We didn’t think you’d make it,” she continues, ignoring his sarcastic answer, “Nathan carried you as fast as he could, but you had lost a lot of blood already.”

Harry grimaces at the thought of being in Nathan’s arms, unconscious, completely dependent on the other man. There’s nothing he hates more than not being in control, and after months of being under Lazarevic’s order, the moment where he could take control of his own life again and end it had been a welcome break of routine - and all that just to end up Nathan Drake’s arms.

“You should have just left me there,” Harry says after he swallows another spoon full of soup. “I wanted to die.”

Elena shrugs. “You didn’t deserve to die like that. Not because of Lazarevic. Not because of a faulty grenade.”

  
“I would have died because I chose to.”

A faulty grenade. That’s the only reason why he survived; not even the grenade Lazarevic gave him was in fully working order. He finishes his soup in silence then, Elena not forcing him to listen to her cheery voice any longer; he wonders how she can keep so positive after everything that happened. She’ll be a good fit for Nathan, he supposes - he couldn’t keep up with Nathan’s constant cheery self, his outgoing nature where Harry was more reserved and wanted to work on his own instead of in a team. The only time he ever had fun in a job that involved more than one person is when he worked with Nate and Chloe, anyway.

“Where’s…” he begins, but he doesn’t even know who he wants to ask for first. If he wants to see Nathan or Chloe look down at him in disgust, the two people who knew him best now feeling nothing more for him than disdain. He wonders how he always ends up with his exes hating his guts, but he guesses that’s just life.

“Where’s Chloe?” he finishes his sentence, figuring it would be easier to face her than Nathan. Not as much history. Not as much betrayal from his side.

“Outside with Nate. I can get her, if you want me to.”

Harry nods after a second of hesitation. Might as well get it over with.

Elena leaves him sitting upright in the bed, the blanket covering him up to his chest. He doesn’t want to move it off him, afraid of the pain that might still linger even though the morphine is working wonder, but he also wants to know just how much of his body is wrapped up in bandages. Maybe he’ll ask Chloe to move it off him -

it’s not like she hasn’t seen him naked and vulnerable before.

“Hey,” Chloe’s voice makes Harry’s head turn towards the door again. She’s leaning against it, closed behind her, leaving the whole space of the room between them. She looks good, Harry thinks. No visible wounds. Not like him.

“Hey,” Harry replies, smiling at her for a short second. “You alright?”

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking that?” Chloe pushes herself off the door and walks over to him, sitting down on the chair next to his bed. Her eyes linger on the bandages revealed above the blanket, and Harry can see her fingers twitch when she wants to reach out and touch them. “How do you feel?”

“Tired. Exhausted, really.”

“You were out for over a day.”

“Huh,” Harry leans back more into the pillows, “I’d have thought it would have been longer. How are you?”

“I’m dealing,” Chloe shrugs. “Glad when I can finally get out of here. I’m so done with this place.”

Harry chuckles, remembering how fed up Chloe had been ever since they arrived in Nepal. Her mood had only soured as they stayed in Tibet, her hatred for Lazarević and… him steadily getting more intense. He wonders why she hasn’t personally killed him yet after he failed to do it himself.

“And Nate?”

Chloe’s expression turns a forced neutral. “He’s alright.”

“With Elena, I guess?”

Chloe nods, her gaze on his face, staring intently. “I didn’t know you two used to…”

Harry waves her off with his uninjured arm. “That was ages ago. I’m over it.” He isn’t, but he’s not about to tell her he still thinks about Nathan occasionally, when he’s alone and aching for someone to lie next to him in bed.

“Still.”

“I didn’t know you two used to see each other, either.”

“I guess we both lied to another about him, did we?”

Harry chuckles. “It’s funny though. That we all have the same type.”

“Dangerous, always on the run?” Chloe replies, smiling herself. “I guess Nathan chose differently, this time.”

Harry shrugs. “Leaves more options to us if he’s out of the game, right?” He doesn’t want to make himself any hope that Chloe would choose him now that Nathan’s out of the picture. Too much has happened between them for there to be any left over trust.

“I guess.” Chloe is visibly uncomfortable, avoiding his eyes. “I think I’m gonna lie low for a while, as well.”

Harry nods, licking over his chapped lips. He’d have to take a forced break from work as well - might never get back to how his body used to be. Even though the grenade was faulty, it still fucked him up majorly if the amount of bandages on his body is any indication.

“You have any idea what’s up with my face?” Harry asks, gesturing up to the right side of his head, which is bandaged.

“I think Elena said your eye is pretty gravely injured…” Chloe hesitates. “She said… um…”

“Great,” Harry says, swallowing hard. “No more depth perception for me, I guess.”

“Maybe they can save it, when you’re back in the U.K.”

Harry doesn’t answer, a weight in his stomach. A burned arm can heal, a destroyed eye not so much. There’s no way he can continue his work as a thief/mercenary if he loses it. Chloe helps him lie down in the bed again after a few minutes of silence, pulling the cover over his chest until the edge rests against his chin. He doesn’t look directly at her, not even responding when she says her goodbye. He’ll probably never see her again, he realizes when the door clicks behind her.

He falls into a restless sleep, waking up every few hours, his throat and mouth dry, but he can’t get up and get himself a glass of water. He tosses and turns until morning, when Tenzin comes into the room with another bowl of soup Harry drinks down in about twenty seconds. He gets another one after he’s finished, but he can’t finish it even half way before he starts feeling sick. He has to go to the bathroom anyway, he figures if there’s a time to throw up it might as well be now. Tenzin has to help him, and Harry has never felt as much like a child as he has when another man has to help him stumble to the toilet. At least he gets a good look at his body; his right leg looks fucked, and his arm, but most of his torso seems to be alright, albeit a few deep cuts are covered up.

He falls asleep when Tenzin puts him back into bed, without waking up this time. There are no dreams haunting him, and he’s grateful for that when he wakes up.

Nathan comes into his room just after noon, sitting down on a chair next to him without losing as much as a hello. He takes off his jacket, and Harry can see that he’s hurt as well. Not as badly as him, but there are cuts on his throat and forearms that Harry can see. He wants to reach out and let his fingers run over the raised scabs that have formed, like he’d done oh so many times in the past. The times in Nathan’s apartment when he lived in Florida, after coming home from rock climbing if they didn’t have to work.

Harry can see Nathan wants to say something, but whatever it is, he keeps it to himself.

“Glad you made it out alive,” Harry says after a while, figuring it had been Nathan who put an end to Lazarević.

“Me too,” Nathan agrees, nodding. “Glad this all is… over.”

“Shame I won’t get paid now.”

Nathan glares at him, clearly not appreciating the joke. “You got paid for the heist, I assume. This was just… extra.”

“I always liked to see a job through till the bitter end.”

“No, you like to get as much money as you need and then disappear,” Nathan says, crossing his arms. “Don’t pretend you’re loyal.”

Harry is quiet, the verbal slap to the face enough to make him shut up. He doesn’t want to fight with Nathan about times long gone by, when money mattered more to Harry than their relationship. If he could go back in time, he’d do a lot of things differently.

He wants to apologize to Nathan, but his pride keeps him from opening his mouth. He also doesn’t know for exactly what he should say he’s sorry for; for involving Nathan? For putting him into prison so he’d be out of the way until this all blew over? Harry feels as if he should beg for forgiveness for simply existing.

“I don’t suppose you ever want to see me again,” he says instead, bracing himself for Nathan’s answer.

“I want to get as far away from you as possible,” Nathan admits, but he sounds more sad than scorned. “I just… don’t recognize you, anymore.”

“You and Chloe can get back together, then,” Harry chuckles. “Hating me in a group must be more fun than doing it alone.”

“Don’t bring her into this.”

“If I remember correctly, you were the one who fucked her while I was with her.”

“You two weren’t exactly exclusive, weren’t you? At least not from her side. And don’t pretend you weren’t looking to have sex with me when you showed up.”

Harry breathes out a scoffing laugh, rolling his eyes. He doesn’t want to admit it, but he had been hoping on ending up in bed with Nathan again - like the good old times. He guesses just up and leaving a few years prior without any notice had squashed all his chances with Nate.

“Also, Chloe and I aren’t getting back together,” Nathan adds. “I’ve got… different plans.”

“Seriously?” Harry laughs. “Only you would choose someone like Elena over Chloe.”

“I love her. Not that you would understand.”

“Oh yes, I’m completely devoid of any emotions that go deeper than tiredness or hunger. Tell me, Nathan, who was it who held you after Sam died?”

Nathan stands up, the chair falling over with the quickness of the action. Harry jerks back at the loud sound, sure that Nate would hit him after such a low blow. They don’t bring up the past - it’s a written rule between them. They don’t bring up Sam, most importantly.

“I think we’re done here.” Nathan walks out of the room, and Harry is sure this is the last time he’ll ever see him.

It takes him months to get back to his former self. He wasn’t lucky; his right eye is blind, but he doesn’t even notice it much anymore. His wounds have healed, leaving only red and white angry scars on one side of his body and above his heart, reminding him of the moment in the temple with Lazarevic, when he was held by two soldiers while Zoran aimed for his chest. He still has nightmares about it, wakes up drenched in sweat and with tears in his eyes. He jumps at loud noises now, too.

After betraying Nathan, there aren’t a lot of job offers coming in. He’s through with his old community; they’ve all taken Nate’s side, and he can’t blame them. They don’t know that Nathan would have been just as ready to screw him over, given the chance. He’s an asshole; Harry’s just more open about being one himself.

He lets himself stalk them once a month, late night Google searches of Chloe’s and Nathan’s names that don’t reveal much. They both don’t have an online presence; the closest Harry gets is finding articles written by Elena and a wedding picture. It looks like they eloped, Harry thinks; Elena’s outfit is only a white summer dress and Nate isn’t even wearing a tux. Harry makes a bet with himself on how long it would take for that to blow over. He gives them two years at the longest.

Chloe is harder to find information on. In fact, Harry hasn’t found anything in the year he hasn’t seen her. He misses her, he realises whenever he thinks of her or looks at the one picture he has of them; taken in the beach bar in Greece where they had found Nathan, the three of them huddled together after a few beers. Harry has his arms around Chloe’s waist while Nathan is sitting next to him, their arms touching. So much history in just one picture - and back then he hadn’t even known that Chloe and Nate were familiar with each other. Looking back, he feels so stupid; Chloe had played him just as much as he had played Nathan.

It’s September, and if Harry can believe his eye, Nathan Drake is in London. With Cutter, who had avoided him ever since the Lazarevic job. Harry swallows hard when Chloe shows up as well, sinking deep into his seat on the tube, trying to blend in with all the other passengers. It works; they don’t notice him, and Harry stares in disgust when Cutter places an arm around Chloe’s waist and pulls her against his side.

At least her taste in men is consistent.

Harry cranes his neck to look at Nathan’s ring finger. Nothing on there. He chuckles to himself, gets up and walks to the back of the cart, his back towards the three of them. There’s nothing left between him and them, nothing to discuss.

It’s his station anyway.


End file.
